


Behind Closed Doors

by Evax3



Series: The King's Desire [4]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breathplay, Dom Drop, Fanart, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Subspace, dom space, dom!robb, sub!theon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3
Summary: When news reaches them that Balon Greyjoy has started his rebellion, Robb has a hard time keeping control (in more ways than one).
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: The King's Desire [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912576
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: Theon Greyjoy Kink Bingo





	Behind Closed Doors

**Author's Note:**

> It's really hard to write right now because my head is just too full. So I'm really proud that I managed this and I hope you guys enjoy it! ❤️

The sun is low over the castle of Ashemark and laughter echoes through the courtyard, so warm and honest that Robb feels another aching sting in his chest, just like the one that's been with him all through the day.

Because gods be good, how he loves that sound. It reminds him of home, of the wolfswood and the hot springs. Reminds him of sword fights with Jon and playing catch with Arya and Bran down in the crypts. It reminds him of all the things he might never see again. And all those things they might never be able to share once more.

Wherefore a deep sigh leaves his lips as he continues his stare, watches them from far up, standing at the window of his tower. Dacey and Lukas in a competition about who can split the thick wooden log in front of them with a single blow of their axe. Theon and Patrek a little way back, a jug of ale in one hand, the other resting on the knob of their swords.

He looks so much at ease. He always does, but especially this night his features are loose, and his posture relaxed, dark skin bathed in the light of the setting sun. A look Robb hasn't seen in a long time. At least outside the closed door of their bedchambers.

Thick black hair hangs in strands over his shoulders, by now grown so long that it goes way past his collarbone. Part of it he has tied at the back of his head to keep it from falling into his eyes. And there another strike hits him. Because this look, it is exactly the way his father used to wear it. His father, whose presence he feels so close this day, as if he's standing right beside him, breathing the same air filling Robb's own lungs.

With this in mind and the sight before his eyes, the lump in his throat grows even more in size and he has no choice but to look away. To turn back to those around him and to continue the conversation he very much prefers to avoid.

“It was always meant to be this way,” the Greatjon repeats with this cursed letter still in his right hand, holding it out for Robb, but he can't take it. “Ned would have done the same.”

“My father knew mercy when it was due,” Robb replies sharp, then risks another glance out of the window. 

He wishes so deeply for his mother to be with him right now. Even if she'd probably give him the same advice as all the others, but mayhaps she would at least feel his pain in some way.

When his glance falls back on Theon, on the pleased smile on his lips, it almost breaks his heart. For the world would be such a crueler place without this smile, without this man who has already given him so much and more.

He averts his eyes again, turns them back at the determined and angry faces of his advisors. Robb feels like all his remaining hope leaves his body. Bitterly reminded that although they made him king, they can unmake him just as easily. And then what would he be? What would become of them? 

_ If you lose, there is no hope for any of us _ , Catelyn's words come to his mind. And she was right with this. If he loses, it means their death. And lose he will surely, if his bannermen turn against him. But could he even live on at all, if it meant for him to take Theon's head?

The discussion continues without him, sometimes quiet and sometimes loud. Almost everyone agrees that it is the only way to fulfill his obligation as king, set through the pact his father made with Balon Greyjoy all those years ago. 

That is, until Lady Mormont finally rises to speak, “one man cannot be held responsible for the actions of his family, nor can a family be held responsible for the actions of one single man.”

Robb knows she's talking about her nephew and still he's grateful for that. Whereas Karstark snorts with indignation and the Greatjon also comes up again to protest. But Robb has heard enough. At least for now he's still their king, which means it's not up for them to decide, but only for him. And so, he dismisses them by saying exactly just that.

And muttering, they leave him be, go one by one until Robb is alone with Grey Wind and his own troubled mind. Left with the thought of how it could have come to this, how he could have prevented it and if Theon had suspected anything all along the way.

He doesn't know how much time has passed while he's sitting there, brooding, until there is a soft knock heard at the door and he raises his eyes.

–

Theon sticks his head into the room and finds Robb sitting on the bed with his wolf, stroking the head of the beast absently. “May I come in?”

The king nods and he closes the door behind him, still with a broad grin. Though it shrinks when he sees the lines drawn on Robb's forehead. His heavy crown resting on the thick auburn mop of his hair crooked. Like it's too heavy with the burden it carries. Another indication for how little the associated title still suits him. Even if it remains hidden to most eyes. Though not to Theon's. 

Never to Theon's.

“What's bothering you?” he asks as he takes one step further inside. 

Instead of an answer he receives a heavy sigh, followed by another as Robb takes the crown from his head and places it beside him onto the table. “Something that can wait,” he says at last and looks up at him. 

There is worry in his eyes, as deep as the day they received the news of Lord Eddard's death. He looks desperate and Theon suddenly wishes nothing more than to remove that expression from his face for good.

“I picked up your laughter,” Robb goes on, smiling somewhat, even if it doesn't appear honest. 

“Well, haven't you heard the news?” Theon says, still smirking, as he takes off his belt and then flops down on the bed. The second he's lying down, he starts fondling Grey Wind, who happily stretches out and shows him his stomach. “There's another rumor spreading, quite impressive if I may say so.”

One of Robb's brows arches. “Gods, what is it this time?”

Even if he always pretends not to care about all these tales, about how the smallfolk sing the praise of his glorious victories, deep inside Theon knows that Robb is eager to hear it. And that he also feels little flattered by it. The light glow in his eyes is confirmation enough. 

“Well, they're saying that you cut out Stafford Lannister's heart and fed it to this  _ monster _ .”

“That is ridiculous,” Robb scoffs, though the twitching of his mouth is unmistakable.

And more ridiculous it is, in fact, if one looks at the wolf lying between them, tongue hanging out, pressing itself against Theon's hand eagerly. 

Though nobody should underestimate the beast within. As same with their king. A thought that Theon, unlike with the wolf, remembers only too fondly. Maybe another thing to take Robb away from his worries.

“Ridiculous so? That's quite one thing to argue about.” Theon smiles, releases Grey and grabs Robb's arm. Forcing him to return his gaze. “ _ And the stars in the night were the eyes of his wolf, and the wind itself was their song _ ,” he sings.

Which finally causes Robb to emit a small chuckle and his blue eyes light up, mischief written all over them. And as desired, the sorrow seems to disappear as well. “Where do you always pick up those things?”

“Mayhaps I spend too much time in taverns?”

“Must be,” Robb grins back, as his gaze changes some more, turns hungry and challenging. Possessive. Where Theon feels his body react immediately.

Adrenaline racing through his veins as his heartbeat speeds up the longer their eyes are locked. He licks his lips, watches as Robb follows the movement of his tongue. Sometimes when he's watching him like this, he seems like a predator. Like a  _ wolf _ . Mayhaps he should fear that, but Theon doesn't. He never has and never will.

What happens next is the sign that he will get what he wants in the shortest time. When Robb gets up, opens the door and whistles through his teeth just once, to signal for the  _ real _ wolf that he must now fulfill his duty.

And it's not the first time Theon wonders, if it's much more suspicious like this. With Grey Wind outside the door night after night guarding whatever happens inside Robb's chambers. 

But even if the men around them suspect something, no one would ever let it be shown. Or they're just too blind to see. Mayhaps they wouldn't even believe it, if they'd see them with their own eyes, hands digging into naked flesh, their mouths crashed together, tongues dancing. Just like now.

“Lie back,” Robb says, with that burning in his eyes, with the voice of Robb the King, so that Theon swallows hard, then does as he's told. The mixture of tension and excitement is no longer foreign to him, his cock rock-hard in his breeches.

–

“Put your hands above your head,” he hears his own voice, the command a bit shaky due to his heavy breathing. Still he sees with satisfaction as Theon obeys with eagerness, like he always does. Robb inhales sharply before he himself steps back to get rid of his clothes.

He lets his eyes roam over Theon's body, watches the muscles in his arms tense, as he tightly grabs the head of the bed. Watches as his eyes darken further and further the more of Robb's skin is exposed. As he takes off his coat, as he steps out of his boots, gets rid of the leather. Still he holds Theon's gaze, lets him see him, see his nakedness, the strident fact of his arousal.

And it literally tears him apart, knowing how much Theon desires him, how willingly he surrenders to him.  _ Trusts  _ him. 

How could he end his life when all he wants is nothing more than to walk up to him, hold him, make sure he's all right. To tell him that he's safe as long as Robb's lungs fill with air and his heart keeps beating in his chest. Holy seven, how much he longs for it. 

Even if danger looms around them, men who would claim both their lives if they could see them like this. If they know what they are. 

Though in here, they are alone.

Protected and hidden. The room is so quiet, with the thick walls surrounding them. No one will hear them, other than with the thin cloth of a tent. The only sound now coming is from their rattling breaths and the pounding of their hearts. It's just them.

So, slowly Robb climbs back into bed and takes his time as tension grows some more.

He still looks at Theon with pure desire, as he moves closer, till he straddles his shoulders. The pillow beneath his head provides the perfect height and puts Theon's mouth exactly where Robb needs him. And with heat in his veins he watches Theon's Adams apple twitch as he swallows, then flicks his tongue around the head. 

Robb's moan is one of pure salvation as he lets his head fall back in his neck. “Oh gods ...  _ yes _ .”

It is exactly what he needs. At least that's what he thinks.

He feels the flutter of Theon's breath against him. His whole body aflame. Robb makes another sound, rough and low with lust and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath as Theon starts to suck him. Tries so badly to forget everything else. To enjoy the moist heat surrounding him and nothing more if only for a bare second.

But when he lifts his eyes, he is not prepared. Black eyes so deep that he loses himself in them. Completely. Like always Theon's gaze hits him with full force.

“ _ Oh fuck _ , I ... Theon ...gods, I ...” 

He can't say it though. Instead he strokes Theon's black hair, with a gentle touch. And he sighs around him but  _ whines _ then as Robb buries his fingers in a few dark strands and  _ pulls _ . It is a firm grip and he knows it must be painful, but he also knows that Theon can take it, that he longs for it. So, he pulls some more and pushes himself deeper down his throat. 

“Shit, the way you look,” he rasps, “so … perfect.” 

And Theon lets himself be led without complaint. Whimpers around him without restraint, whether because of the hard grip or the praise, Robb doesn't know. Yet it makes him feel things ... worshipped, strong, powerful.  _ He could kill him right here with his bare hands and he wouldn't even fight back. _

But how could he ever do that? How should he ever be able to give that up? They are meant for each other. It is a thought so intense that he can hardly keep breathing.

Theon must feel it too, must be able to taste him, his desire, his need. The way he's leaking into his mouth. Already so close. As another shudder goes through his limbs. All the way from his head to his toes. And then Robb's losing himself.

He's screaming with abandon, his cock pulsing with release, while Theon swallows everything he gives. Holds his gaze the whole time his climax shoots through him. As he pushes forward one last time.

_ It was always meant to be this way, _ the words of the Greatjon echo through his head.

–

He tips his eyes up, but keeps his mouth on Robb, licks him dry until not a single drop is left. Does so, till finally his softening cock falls from his mouth.

If he could move, be  _ allowed _ to move, he might be pressing the back of his hand to his lips. But instead, he feels part of Robb's cum running down his chin, past his lip where his tongue can't catch it. He knows well how filthy and wrecked he might look, a sight that causes Robb's cock to twitch again, even if he's completely spent.

His gaze is foggy, as he looks down on him, as he takes his time to watch the rise and fall of Theon's chest in the space between them. Watches his body squirm, without doubt Robbs sees how aroused he is by what he just did to him. Then gently he strokes his thumb across Theon's jaw, gathering his cum, and leads it back to Theon's lips, to let him suck it till they're both moaning again.

Finally Robb steps back and moves down his body. He kisses him everywhere but on his lips. It's more bites than kisses, which let pleasured pain run through his body, while his cock begs to be touched, rock hard between his thighs. And moaning little pants as he's twitching again with need.

“Tell me what you want,” Robb grunts as he pinches his nipple, where Theon has to bite his lips in order not to emit such another shameful whimper.

“Tell me,” he urges him again.

“ _ Please _ ,” Theon chokes then, his entire body shaking with desire, “please … just …  _ touch me _ .”

So, when Robb pulls down his breeches, finds his erection and strokes his fist up his length, he lets out a guttural sob, his thighs quivering and hips vibrating. Yet he knows that he must keep still. He always does, unless Robb tells him otherwise. 

But it feels so  _ good _ , he feels so  _ whole _ .

With every stroke his sobs grow louder than the one before, the impending orgasm so hard to prevent.

“Robb …” Theon breaths, as the hand around his cock picks up speed. 

“Say it,” Robb commands and his steel blue eyes are piercing right through him.

Though Theon wants to, wants to tell him to make him come. He just  _ can't _ . Robb's look, his voice, his touch. It's all holding him back. He's trapped under his gaze and never in his life had he loved something more than feeling that way. 

But still … he's panting. Still, he wants to move, to thrust. Still it is too much and not enough, as he's trying to control his body, holding himself still against every instinct of his nature. He forces his lips open, but nothing comes out than a desperate plea. 

“Oh ...  _ oh, please _ .”

–

Robb is shaken by the force of all that he wants, still wants despite his previous release. His body shivers with a tremor he just can't still. All because of the man beneath his fingers and all those noises that Theon makes. 

He knows that he has to be the one in control. He is the one to take care of Theon when he's in such a state, so far gone. So helpless under his hands. Why is it so difficult today?

Though as soon as he has passed his peak, the rage was back. And despair. And the longer Theon looks at him like that, the more he feels he's about to snap. 

“Move. Do it,” he presses between his teeth, because he needs this to be over before he does something, he might later regret.

Holds his palm in place, instead of stroking up and down once more, and lets Theon rut into it. His back arches as he jerks himself on Robb's hand, once, twice, and pushes up for a fourth, but it doesn't seem to be enough, as he lets out a cry so desperate and needy it makes Robb's own cock throb with desire.

“More … please, Robb …  _ harder _ .”

It must have cost Theon so much to overcome to demand this of him. Sweat on his forehead, brows drawn together. Robb tightens his grip again, praying to the gods that Theon may finally reach is peek. Because everything  _ he's _ feeling right now, it's just too much.

He is shaken by everything he wants. He feels dizzy with competing impulses. Though he wants to make him feel good. But still there's this voice telling him that he  _ must  _ punish him, that he deserves it, all the talks of the day still buzzing through his head. But he can't. He just  _ can't _ .

Then suddenly Theon loses his grip from the bed. 

It's just one hand moving down and yet it catches Robb's eyes like a spell, as Theon grabs  _ his  _ free hand with his eyes squeezed shut, his cock hard and leaking, and puts it around his throat.

The movement throws Robb off balance, causing him to push his whole body weight forward. He's laying on top of Theon, whose eyes snap open as he chokes. But there is no fear in his gaze. 

Instead it is so pure and open, his desire exposed and raw. 

“Do it.  _ Please _ … do it,” he rasps, so Robb can feel him swallow against the palm of his hand.

Then Robb's the one who obeys. The one who squeezes, as his other hand is still wrapped around his needy cock, giving him strong hard pulls, while the air is leaving Theon's lungs. 

Their eyes are locked through all the time. Robb watches a teardrop break free, as Theon's mouth opens again to take a breath, but there is no chance. Because his grip won't let him. And Robb hears his heart beating so loud with arousal, his thighs stretching wider and wider as he begs for more. With his body, with his eyes. 

Almost there.

His gaze so full of affection, full of trust. 

Yet Robb can't wait for it to happen. He has to let him go or he breaks.

–

With the air back, heat hits, a burst of it, and Theon comes in a rush before he's able stop himself, too soon, overwhelmed, still drowning in pleasure. His body convulses, even as he fights not to move, his stomach clenching, his fingers gripping the wood of the bed so hard, it cracks. There's a hand stroking him through it, where he's not sure if it's his own or Robb's.

“Gods …  _ fuuuck _ ,” he cries, his back arched, until he's completely spent. 

Still seconds later it feels like his body is floating, all tingling, his throat aching, but in a good way. It is the kind of pain that reminds him of what Robb did to him, how he still makes him feel. 

Robb who should be lying next to him now but is not. There, Theon opens his eyes.

He sits at the edge of the bed, face buried in his hands, with his body shaking so heavy, that it's now up to Theon to be worried. 

Carefully he reaches out a hand, even if he himself still feels a bit nauseous. But when Robb does not react, does not even flinch he finally forces himself to sit up. Move closer to him. Closes his arms around him. And kisses his shoulder. Which then results in a faint sob.

And that's when he knows there's something seriously wrong. 

"Robb?" 

Though he gets no answer, just some mumbled words he can't understand. 

"Robb, look at me," Theon tries again, strokes some of his damp curls off his forehead and then finally he moves his hands away from his face. 

Turns his head and looks.

There is no king left in his gaze, just Robb the boy watching him with sad eyes. And Theon swallows, holds his eyes. "I'm alright," he whispers, at a loss for any better words to say. 

"Please forgive me," Robb breathes, sniffing.

"There's nothing to forgive?" Theon's mind still feels foggy, clouded from his post-orgasmic bliss. But deep down he knows that this time it needs to be him to comfort Robb and not the other way round. Still his voice sounds small and foreign when he speaks, "I'm fine. I - I wanted it. I liked it." He pauses, then adds, "I'm sorry. I … I shouldn't have forced you. I know you would never truly hurt me." 

At that a tear breaks loose from his deep blue eyes and Robb stands up on trembling legs, shaking his head as he moves to the table near the window. Theon can't do anything but watch and listen, a soft sigh leaving Robb's lips as he grabs some parchment, rolled up and crumbled, and turns back. 

"What is it?" Theon says when he sees him hesitating.

So he shows him his palm, goosebumps all over his dark skin, mixed with a thin sheen of sweat. But he thinks, mayhaps he makes it easier like that, when he asks for it. 

And it seems he's right about that as finally Robb places the paper on his hands, takes his seat back, next to him on the feathers. 

Then they share one last look before Theon starts to read. 

–

He can see it, watch it as realization kicks in. All colours leave Theon's face as he takes in the written words, as he comes to understand their meaning. And Robb feels like he can't breathe, his chest so tight as he takes him in. His friend, his lover, his brother. 

Theon puts a hand over his mouth, drops it again, then drops the letter as well, where his eyes stay down a second longer before he looks back up. "When did you get this?"

"This morning." There's no sense in lying about it.

And Theon's gaze tells him he knows what this means, or what it should mean but doesn't. Because how could it, how could it ever? 

No kingdom, but this man in front of him, he is what matters, the only thing that does. His gaze full of fear, it's the last thing that makes Robb certain he can't do it. Would never do it, even if it means both their death's.

And just like that the fog clears from his mind, makes him see everything finally as it is. Makes his heartbeat calm down as well as his breath. Also the tremor in his hand has stopped, when he takes the parchment, throws it on the floor and moves closer. 

Though to his dismay, Theon flinches back. "No, don't please. Don't make it any worse." 

"Listen," Robb tries, "I swear I won't -"

"Don't. Say it," he grits through his teeth, but suddenly Robb feels so desperate to do it. To make up for him considering it even for a brief second. 

"I'm so sorry, that I … that I even ..."

But Theon interrupts him again, "Robb, this is  _ treason _ . My father broke the pact and now … now you  _ have _ to take my head."

"I love you." The words leave his lips without his intention, but somehow he's glad they did. Even if Theon's still not looking anything near happy, the fear in his eyes falters. So he says it again, moving closer till their legs touch and he can put both his hands around Theon's face. "I love you, you hear me?"

"Then you're as good as dead as I am." His smile is sad but at least it's there.

"It's the path I choose then," he replies honestly. 

When Theon closes the gap between them, presses their lips together, it's the first time this day that Robb feels warm. Not cold of fear or hot from desire. But warm and sheltered. And it feels right. It feels so right.

May the gods forgive him for breaking his vows and neglecting his duties, yet he'd be nowhere else but in the arms of this man who owns his heart. 

For what else could he do, when he feels a love so greatly he can think of nothing else instead?

**Author's Note:**

> The last sentence is actually a quote from Robb Stark himself (he says it to Catelyn in ASoS, when he comes back to Riverrun)! :)


End file.
